Language

I have a story due Tuesday for my fiction class. I told my independent study prof that I would write five pages before next Thursday, and I have half a book to read that was supposed to be done this past Thursday. I then have to start reading a new book. That's not even including or thinking about Victorian Lit--not to complain, just making it known that I will spend my weekend reading and writing.

I'm am now officially in a relationship. I'm actually feeling optimistic about it, but I guess only time will tell how it goes. Being in a relationship is good for me. It forces me to step outside of my comfort zone and compromise. Being independent is rather addicting. Relationships take practice. I'm glad to be in one.

Working on my memoir is proving to be great for my self-awareness. I've heard many writers talk about how people assume that writing about tough times is cathartic, but argue that it is hell. They talk about how painful it is to be forced to relive bad memories and spend time reflecting about them. I can understand that aspect, but as of now, I am writing about my childhood and family dynamics. It's proving to be very helpful in my understanding of where I fit in in my family and why I behave in the ways that I do. I feel lucky to be able to look at my history from the lens of a writer. It helps me make sense of my world. It's like my favorite quote from Ayn Rand, "Words are a lens to focus one's mind." What a gift language can be!